Chapter #34Sock mummification by: EyGid   Words could not describe how much you were looking forward to whatever your master had planned for you. The possibilities excited and terrified you considering what he's done to you so far. It didn't help that you'd essentially been edge for three days straight, meaning even working your fried brain hard enough to produce a faint idea of the kind of torture he had in mind brought you close to blowing your load.
But you know better than that. You're a loyal slave to his stink and you wouldn't dream of disobeying him. You crawled behind him on all fours as he led you through his den past all the rooms you'd seen before getting your mind even more warped, though you hardly noticed them since your eyes were locked on his boots as you drooled at the idea of inhaling his foot fumes again. This made you bump into his smelly tail as he suddenly stopped in front of a room you hadn't seen before.
"This here's one of my favourite torture chambers, bitch," said master. "It's one of the less hardcore ones so I'm sure even a stupid pansy like you can handle it on your first day. It's a gift from one of my slaves when I was cruisin' in the East for a bit. Damn he was a good fag." You saw a tent starting to form in his pants as he recalled torturing one of his many bitches.
The room was utterly filled with ripe socks that must've been worn for weeks at a time each without cleaning. It also contained what seemed to be a sarcophagus that seemed like it'd just barely fit someone your size. As you crawled behind master into the room, the waft of the socks littered on the floor made you freeze in place for a second as you desperately tried to fight the load of nut surging up your shaft. Master looked back at you in disgust. "Yo fag are you really havin' that much trouble keepin' one little load in those tiny balls? Don't worry boy imma let you cum in this room as long as you can last ten minutes of this torture without bustin'."
That promise immediately made your eyes light up. You were finally going to be allowed to cum! You knew this orgasm was going to leave you twitching and spasming with how long you've had to brew this batch of spunk. You were determined to withstand whatever he was planning on doing to you in this room.
"Stand up boy. I know it's hard for you since you're barely human anymore but I'm gonna need you to try your best." You fumbled to your feet, still drunk off the stink clogging your head, and clumsily walked to face the sarcophagus. "Challenge is simple but I'll dumb it down for you anyway. I'm gonna wrap you up in every single pair of this funky socks and lock you in my special Stink Sarcophagus. 's long as you don't nut while in there, I'll give you a fuckin' mind-blowing footjob and let you cum myself. If you fail, you're gonna go through some wild punishment. And trust me, not even a perv like you's gonna enjoy that."
Before you could say anything, perhaps because master didn't expect your braindead self to answer, he knocked you to the ground and began grabbing pair after pair and wrapping each one around your body to ensure you wouldn't be able to move. He started with your face, putting one sock over your tongue like a condom and stuffing a few more into your mouth, before tying your arms to your body to turn you into his mummy. As he moved down, he put a used cum sock on your dick just to make things harder for your and put his sweatiest pair on your feet so that you could feel his body fluids squishing between your toes. Once your transformation was complete, he shoved you into the Stink Sarcophagus before taking the remaining socks and burying you in them. Finally, he closed the lid on you and locked you inside, trapping all the stink along with you outside of a few tiny holes to allow you to breathe... somewhat. "Timer starts now! I normally don't bother wishing my bitches good luck, but with you being a twink and how easy it was to fuck up your brain I think it's worth sayin' it."
The first few minutes were agonizing. Not because of the insane amounts of funk you were inhaling at all times, but instead because you were just barely keeping your nut in the entire time. You were constantly tasting and drinking foot sweat as your dick squished against the fresh cum master left for you in his sock. Worst of all were the socks on your feet. With how horny you were, you couldn't help curling and wriggling your toes as you put all your strength into trying to follow master's orders. But all this did was make you even more horny as you felt all the skunk sweat seep through your toes and bathe your feet in his noxious odour.
"You're doin' pretty good so far bitch. I still hear you awake and moaning and I woulda definitely heard you if you came. I'm pretty impressed 'specially considerin' the fact that I wore a lot of those socks underneath other pairs." That mental image nearly made you cum on the spot. The idea of him not only bathing his feet in the sweat of his ripe socks but also bathing those socks inside of other pairs all while keeping all the sink trapped inside his locked boots was almost too much. "Oh, and not to mention the curse that my old slave put on the sarcophagus itself. That kid was one kinky fucker. Should be kickin' in any second now..."
At first, you were convinced that the cure must've been making his socks stinkier as there was no way this kind of smell could be created naturally. But then you felt it. The wriggling. The socks slowly started to fucking wriggle. You were going crazy in there. Every single one of the 100+ pairs of socks came to life and were starting to worm their way all over you. The one on your tongue was scrubbing its flavour into every individual tastebud while the one on your dick was practically jacking you off. The ones on your feet were giving you a sensual massage to add to the kinkiness. The rest of the socks slithered around your body and exuded sweat, practically lubing you up for this full body massage. They seemed to particularly enjoy teasing your sensitive nipples just to tease you further.
You were in heaven. A paradise that was about to be destroyed by the absolutely massive load of cum that has been churning in your balls for days and was about to fill the inside of your master's cum sock. But the socks had their own plan for you. Despite them being a part of the skunk boy's torture and overall serving him, they still liked to have their own fun and they were most certainly not done toying with such an enjoyable captive. One sock made its way into the cum sock covering your dick and, making sure to squeeze out a copious amount of sweat to lube up, shoved itself in your urethra to stop you from nutting. Another one wrapped itself tight against the base of your cock before gently caressing your ballsack.
This is what it must feel like to be an insane asylum. The socks were already acting as a straitjacket as you writhed and bucked in unparalleled pleasure, eyes rolling to the back of your head, moaning loudly into the pairs of socks stuffed into your mouth. You spasmed so hard that you accidentally hit your head against the lid of your confinement chamber. "Sheesh is it really that bad in there? I mean you're only two and a half minutes in so you better start adaptin'."
Two. And a half. Fucking. Minutes. If it weren't for the sentient socks keeping you on edge, this would be completely impossible. And even still, you felt like you were going to die from a heart attack from the pleasure overload. Still, you had to complete this challenge for master. If not for him, then for the godly footjob he was going to give you at the end. Only trouble is that if the socks decide to be mean and let you cum, you're screwed. You're completely at their mercy as you continue to twitch and contort in maddening pleasure...  indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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